A Question of Bonds
by teresa
Summary: Valentine's Day Challenge! When some of the characters learn surprising facts about their families, it may become a question of love, friendship, or loyalty


It's been a long time, but jade and I wanted to test out our old Valentine's challenge chops, so here it goes! Non-canon 7th year, challenges at the end of the story. Enjoy!

A Question of Bonds

"Hermione, can I see your Potions essay?" Ron's voice was in a tone that Harry recognized after long years of witnessing this type of exchange as indicative of him probably having nothing more than a title line of his own essay completed. However, looking at his own expanse of blank parchment, he realized he had no room to judge, and in any case he was just as eager to take the easy way out of a twenty-inch essay on ashwinder eggs.

"Have you even _started_ yours?" Hermione didn't look up from the scroll of parchment she was diligently scratching away at, her finger pressed absently at a passage in a tome so dusty and unwieldy Harry wondered if she might have been the first person in a decade to bother reading it. "Honestly, you can get at least five inches out of proper precautions and storage alone."

"But there's so much to say," Ron attempted, sounding almost sincere in his desire to tell all he knew about obscure Potions ingredients, "if I could look at yours, I'd have a better idea of how to start."

"You are completely ridiculous, you know." She glanced up at last and grabbed a roll of parchment from a neat pile on top of a stack of books she was currently not using but apparently felt she needed to keep nearby. "One of these days, you'll be forced to do something for yourself."

"And as long as it's not writing essays, I'll be prepared to do my best." He assured her genially, taking the proffered scroll before she could change her mind and unfurling it between Harry and himself. "What's that you're working on, anyway. I know you already finished your Defense essay, and we've got nothing else due the rest of the week."

"Maybe _you _haven't," she pursed her lips and flicked several pages in the book she had been referring to. "It's for Binns, bit of a fun side project."

"Binns…fun?" Harry chuckled, looking up from her double length ashwinder egg essay. "You've got three rolls of parchment already, Hermione. What are you writing out, the entire history of all wizard kind?"

"Actually," she frowned at the book and looked up at them both, "I suppose it's something like that, in a way. He's asked us to do genealogies of one of the four founders, going at least ten generations in whatever direction we like with analysis of important figures. I was surprised at first, you know because of how muggles view that sort of thing as quasi-history, but it makes sense that wizards aren't so prejudiced against genealogical science considering their nearly disturbing blood obsession." She frowned slightly. "It's odd, though."

"How can you find _anything_ about anyone who's been dead that long?" Ron sounded slightly disgusted. "What has it been? Like ten thousand years since they died?"

"Ronald, you know very well it was only about a thousand years." She frowned again and flipped a few pages in the book, muttering to herself distractedly.

"Which founder are you using? Gryffindor?" Harry was interested despite himself, although it might have been his deep desire not to work on his Potions that was causing his curiosity to be piqued.

"Yes, well," she looked up again, frowning deeply still. "I thought Slytherin a bit easy, you know, no one tracked blood so carefully as a family completely obsessed with how important they thought it made them. I thought of Ravenclaw, but then I thought it might be a good chance to learn more about our house." She admitted, "Although I think I've hit a bit of a dead end. It was easy for a bit, he was so prolific. Did you know he had four separate wives? And over ten children? Some historians claim he had as many as thirty-two, most illegitimate of course, but I don't really think that's as likely as people wanting to make themselves seem more important than they were after the fact by claiming him as an ancestor since he was just so…well, as I said…"

"Great, now you've got her going," Ron shook his head at Harry and turned to her, chuckling. "Lots of kids, huh? Maybe you'll find out I'm his great-great-great grandson. That'd be something, wouldn't it?"

"He was a red head, you know," she couldn't resist a teasing smile, and Ron puffed out his chest a bit. "It wouldn't really surprise me to find a link like that, but I'm stuck at this bit," she turned a large piece of parchment she'd wedged under her essay so they could see a diagram labeled neatly with a large blank space open for it to expand into. "I can follow this line well enough, but there's a bit of a disagreement of what happens to these two branches," she prodded her finger at the points in question. "It's obvious they married, but there's a dispute over the names of the children or if they even _had_ any, and I'd rather not drop two more branches when these three," she jabbed her finger again, "never had any children for sure, so that's their end."

"Hermione, what do you think you're going to find Gryffindor's direct descendants living today?" Ron laughed again. "I was just joking, no one can follow the founders lines that far. I mean, every family _claims_ to have one bit or another. My dad swears we're related to Gryffindor, and mum says she's actually a distant relation to Hufflepuff, but no one _really _knows. It's all mixed up these days, and that was all so long ago. It's not like you still have a time turner, so really no way for you to go back and find out, is there?

"Even if I _could_ go back," Hermione straightened her spine, "I'd be dead before I lived long enough to tell anyone who'd be interested since time turners only work in reverse, as I _thought_ you well knew."

"What do I care how they work, you're the one mental enough to want to fit twice the classes into a day as any sane person." Ron snorted, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him before turning to Harry.

"Harry, could I borrow your cloak?" she asked him fervently. "I really want to see what I can find about these lines, and I thought if I could get into the Restricted Section."

"Blimey, Hermione," Ron threw up his hands. "You've got well over what Binns asked for here. Just give up studying for once and have a rest. You don't know, you might like it."

"Oh shut up, Ronald." She was clearly building for a rant, so Harry cut her off before they could lose their essay copying privileges.

"Sure, you can have it tonight." Harry's eyes darted around the library and he ducked under the table, transferring the cloak from his bag to hers. "Just make sure you don't fall asleep down here."

"Please, some of us _enjoy_ learning." Hermione huffed, but she squeezed his hand in thanks before returning to her work, which Harry decided he'd eventually have to do as well.

Draco did not know what cruel fates had tempted him to actually do his homework, but he was currently cursing them all and wishing he had skived off and just skipped the assignment or done the bare minimum. It wasn't as though he ever planned to do anything that would require a History of Magic NEWT, he was in the class more as a point of pride, trying to gather as many top levels as he could by the end of his Hogwarts career. After all, it wasn't as though you needed test results to continue being rich, and that was currently his chief ambition.

_Well, until about nine minutes ago. Now I just wish I'd never tried to cheat on my homework._

Even as he thought it, Draco automatically came up with several reasons why the Tracery Spell was in no way cheating, and really just extremely creative research. Yes, blood magic was illegal. Okay, the Tracery Spell was considered dark, based on a miniscule amount of the subject's blood and the tiniest amount of animal sacrifice. As though anyone would really care if that spider had died helping Draco get a high mark on his essay or crawling too close to Pansy, which obviously would have happened eventually since she cursed any spider that came within ten yards of her and it had foolishly chosen the Slytherin dungeons as its home.

He felt suddenly dizzy, possibly due to his guilt over the sacrifice, or perhaps due to the amount of blood he'd lost, since the spell was more accurate with more fuel. Then again, it could be that mocking fork splitting off from his own name on the parchment below him, where the blood had rearranged itself into neat lines and letters and branches marking off generation after generation of his ancestors.

He had written his name at the center of the bottom of the page. He had no reason to expect any branches at that level, since his father was an only child and his mother had claimed he had no cousins.

He frowned at the branch lowering from an aunt he'd never heard of, narrowing his eyes at the ridiculous name of his cousin and wishing desperately that had been the only nasty shock he'd received after casting the spell that would reveal the family tree of whoever it was cast on.

_Father would have forbidden me learning this spell if he'd known I'd ever use it…if he knew what I'd learn._ Draco thought regretfully, wishing his parents had thought of the possibility. After all, they must have gone to a great deal of trouble to conceal this other bottom branch from him. There was a cluster of names attaching itself like an unwanted parasite to the bottom of his tree, linking a woman named Grace Hall to his father with a single offspring listed at the same level as Draco himself, as if to insinuate they were equal, related. Brothers.

_Ernie Macmillian_

Draco wasn't even sure he could sort out which part was the most upsetting. Obviously his mother lying about him not having any cousins when he could see the name Nymphodora Tonks written in his own blood was something for him to address. Her mother Andromeda would have to be his aunt, but he'd always been led to believe he only had one aunt, and he had to wonder at what Andromeda could have done for his mother to deny her existence while allowing a sociopath like Bellatrix to come near her son. But his curiosity over that unexplored branch was nothing to his indignation over the shock of finding out he had a half brother, born out of what Draco had to assume was either infidelity to his mother or possibly an earlier wife Draco had also never heard of. It wasn't so much that his parents had hidden things from him, but finding out that he had a brother, and that brother was a bloody _Hufflepuff_, just seemed like more than any reasonable person could be asked to bear.

And it begged questions, too many questions that Draco wanted to ignore but that were too dangerous to shunt aside. Surely his parents knew, or at least his father was aware of this anomaly, so why had Draco never known of it? And if Ernie was older than Draco, would that make him the true heir to the Malfoy fortune?

_Ugh, money like ours would be wasted on that goody two-shoes master of mediocrity. He'd probably give it all away to try to find a cure for Squibs or erect a statue of something bland and philanthropic without even trying to buy any favors with it._

In addition, how had any of this happened? Had Macmillian's mother died, leaving Lucius to pursue Narcissa, or had he been cheating on Draco's mother with this other woman. Perhaps the shock of spawning a future Hufflepuff had driven his father straight, or…there was the possibility that it had been an affair and that Lucius didn't know because the woman hadn't told him. Perhaps she'd been with Macmillian's "father" already and had hushed the whole thing up, passing him off as a son of her middle-class marriage instead of the aristocrat he could have been if his mother wasn't such a dumpy waste of space.

Not that Draco was biased, but he knew what Macmillian looked like, and if he factored out the features that might have come from Lucius, what was left was not much, and therefore begged the question of why his father had ever gone so low when he had someone like Narcissa. None of it made sense, and Draco did not approve of things like this threatening his leisurely future, much less completely destroying his idea of how his parents felt about each other.

He would have to find out what he could without letting Macmillian catch on, just in case the pompous idiot hadn't already figured it out. This would not stand.

The worst part of all of it was that he had hoped to find a common link in his tree with that of Salazar Slytherin, but despite everything else he had found, it didn't appear that they shared any relations, and Draco was hesitant to expand either tree now that he had found such a disturbing truth in his own family.

It was tempting to confront his father, but without more information the whole effort would be a waste. If Lucius knew about Ernie, he would certainly continue to deny it even with this evidence, possibly claiming Draco had botched the spell.

Draco wished he could believe that he had done just that.

"Draco!" Pansy slammed open the door to his Head Boy's room, and he rolled up the tree as casually as possible, his heart thundering in his chest as he cursed Pansy's new habit of simply barging into his room without knocking. He was fairly sure she did this in a hope to catch him naked, and it certainly added a level of urgency to any time he needed to change his clothes. Luckily, he had decided to stop having any sort of trysts in his room about a month before she developed this awkward habit, or she'd have found out a lot more than she'd bargained for.

_She might leave me alone if she knew I preferred blokes,_ Draco made a great show of rolling up the other pieces of parchment near him to make it seem as though he was just putting away his homework, which technically was true. _Then again, I sometimes wonder if anything I could say would dissuade her. Truly, being this beautiful is nothing but a curse._

"Pansy," he nodded to her as calmly as he could. He would happily tell her the details of all of his relationships before he would tell her the truth hidden on the roll of parchment now sitting on his end table. "One would think you weren't raised properly. My door was closed, and I've asked you repeatedly to _knock_ before entering." Pansy rolled her eyes and gave a short laugh as though she thought this was clearly Draco's idea of a joke.

"Honestly, everyone thinks of us as married already, what's the point of me standing on ceremony?" Draco blinked dryly at this. She seemed to think if she acted as though they were in a deep love affair, she could convince herself that it was true, and possibly eventually even Draco himself would go along with it out of pure laziness. "Anyway, you're late, remember it's two weeks to go until the Act, we have to come up with something before it becomes too late."

"Ugh, not that again." Draco heaved a sigh and felt his mood go from bad to worse. "I'd forgotten we'd drawn Valentine's Day this year."

"Yes, it's too bad we have to throw away the most romantic day of the year doing things for non-Slytherins when we could be focusing on each other," she smiled in a way Draco was fairly sure she thought was seductive, advancing on him slowly. "But at least whatever we decide on, we'll be doing it _together._"

"Let's go," Draco dodged her attempt to embrace him as he made his way to his door and found himself privately thanking the luck that had chosen Valentine's Day as the date for the Slytherins' Annual Act of Charity when Snape had drawn the day at the beginning of the school year. Last year he had spent most of Valentine's Day trying to dodge Pansy's attempts to corner him and finally resorting to a Puking Pastille to get her to leave him alone and stop trying to molest him. In the end, he couldn't have said whether he was more ashamed at his use of a Weasley product or at his sheer terror at the idea of having to snog Pansy ever.

They joined a large crowd in the common room, and Draco was reasonably sure they had all been waiting for him. He was Head Boy, after all, and as a seventh year Slytherin something of a leader to most of them, though he doubted that certain of his peers like Nott or Blaise would ever admit any such thing.

"Anyone have any ideas so far?" he raised his voice so as to casually take control of the gathering and Blaise shot him a sour look.

"We hardly need your help thinking of something for the Act," Nott sneered. "Your talent's in plotting ways to torment Potter, which unfortunately doesn't quite qualify as Charity."

"I don't understand why we're really doing this," a sullen first year girl complained, and Draco chuckled in a condescending manner.

"The Slytherin Act of Charity is an ancient, secret tradition." He explained to her in tones of superiority. "It's said that Salazar Slytherin himself began the tradition to assure that his students understood their positions in the world. Being born into the best families, living lives of such comfort, there are certain expectations placed on all of us. We are better than everyone else in this school, it's true, but we must be kind and gracious leaders. My father never achieved such power and influence by ignoring everyone who wasn't pure blood, he gives charitable donations every year where he can, and his compassion is repaid in the open submission of those lesser wizards he associates with when the need calls for it. What we do now, as students, prepares us for a world in which our ambitions are better achieved with a nod to kind acts, letting the lesser wizards briefly think themselves our equals, but certainly always feel indebted to us. Money is nothing to being owed favors."

"I have an idea," Nott spoke up then. "How about we get Draco sterilized?"

"Or cast a silencing charm on him that'll last the rest of the year?" Blaise added winking lasciviously at Draco, who barely controlled the flush rising to his face. He had enjoyed a brief but very educational tryst with Blaise earlier that year, and he was constantly worried that the other Slytherin would let Draco's preferences slip in front of the rest of the house before Draco was ready for anything like that. However, it seemed Blaise was interested in continuing their association, so while the incident had given him a bit of an arrogant attitude toward Draco, he stopped before pushing things too far.

"You two are just jealous," Pansy draped herself on Draco's arm, and he was so busy trying not to blush that he was caught by surprise and found himself ensnared. "Draco's more Slytherin than either of you." Draco wasn't really sure what that meant, but he nodded at her graciously while trying to casually pull away from her.

"Seriously, we should try to think of something suitable tonight. I don't want a repeat of last year's debacle." Draco tried to restore order by bringing attention back to the purpose of the meeting. "Unless you _want_ to give away your entire wardrobe again?" That took the wind out of Pansy and Blaise's sails. "And I won't even mention our third year. I still can't look at a house elf without feeling the urge to wash my hands." He shot meaningful looks at some of the older students, none of whom would meet his gaze.

"What about if we made Valentine's chocolates and gave them out to all the other students?" a terrified looking second year squeaked, her hand in the air as though she thought she was in class.

"Except we poison the chocolates." Nott chimed in, suddenly looking a lot less bored than he had moments earlier.

"Merlin's beard, Nott!" Pansy chided him, and her distraction was finally enough to let Draco slide his arm out of her grip. "What part of _charity_ do you not understand? We go through this every year with you. Charity, _not_ genocide! Remember what happened when we were supposed to help Hufflepuffs with their exams in second year? His Hufflepuff ended up in the infirmary for three months!"

"It's not my fault he was so bad at defensive spells." Nott grumbled. "And detecting poisons."

"We all know Hufflepuffs are stupid." Millicent Bulstrode's thick tone and deliberate pace made it impossible to miss the irony in her words, but Draco manfully held in his laughter. "But we still gotta do nice things once a year. It's like Christmas, but not always in December, and if your family were all people you'd rather punch in the face than give presents to." She paused, as if so much speaking was exhausting, and Draco took the moment to reflect on how much he'd rather punch Macmillian than ever acknowledge him as a brother.

"Millicent's right," Goyle stood up, puffing out his barrel chest, which was quite an interesting sight. Draco knew that Goyle had been pursuing Millicent's affections for over two years, but she was typically oblivious to his overtures. Sometimes Draco considered assisting them, but he had a terrifying suspicion that if things worked out between the pair, they would name one of their doubtlessly hideous children after him in gratitude. After learning he was brother to a Hufflepuff, this was suddenly less horrible. "We need to do a good thing now. We can clobber those idiots any other day."

"Eloquently put, Gregory." Blaise's tone was only slightly mocking, but it wasn't likely Goyle would notice it in any case; he was staring at Millicent in a way Draco usually only saw him look at a full tray of bacon. "Chocolates are on the right track, but I don't think that Nott would need to bother with poison if we let someone like, say, Pansy make them."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she snapped, sticking out her jaw in a way that made her look unfortunately like a pit bull in a wig. "Are you saying I can't cook?"

"Have you ever even boiled an egg?" Blaise challenged her, smirking in response to her anger. "And in case you were wondering, ordering a house elf to do it _doesn't _count as doing it yourself."

"I don't see why not." She muttered rebelliously and stuck out her lip so that her resemblance to a vicious guard dog was only increased. "They're just another sort of tool, after all. Draco can't catch the snitch without his broom, but you still give him the credit for playing Quidditch." Despite this being a very fair point, Draco didn't want this meeting to devolve into another Blaise and Pansy battle when they had actual goals to accomplish some time in the near future.

"Still, we could have the elves prepare something special for all the students, something a bit classier than the usual fare. Give the peons a taste of the upper crust as a special treat." He mused thoughtfully. "We could instruct the elves on what to prepare, plan a menu and gather special ingredients, perhaps even decorate the Great Hall tastefully. That might work nicely for the Act."

"That sounds perfect, darling!" Pansy grabbed him without warning and he barely dodged her lips, which still unfortunately planted on his cheek as her hands mussed up his hair so that he couldn't decide which part of the embrace was worse, and he shoved her away with a glare nearly as venomous as Blaise's, patting his hair back into place while trying not to appear too fussy. "I've been helping mother plan menus since I could barely walk. I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something memorable. It could be like a dinner party, and…" she trailed off, and a positively terrifying expression lit her face. " We could prepare a dance as well! A banquet and a ball, it will be the perfect Act for Valentine's Day, and if we did that, we'd be able to enjoy ourselves as well." She gave Draco a look that made him break out in a cold sweat as his mouth suddenly dried and his brain froze in terror. Around them, the other Slytherins were expressing their interest and approval, and before he knew it the details were being cleared up and individual tasks were being assigned. After an interminable period he felt his limbs stiffly leading him to bed, where he finally collapsed.

As much as he believed in the importance of the upper class giving back and making sacrifices in the name of charity, he wasn't sure he was prepared to make the sort of sacrifice Pansy was looking for.

"Harry, Ron, I need to talk to you." Hermione rushed over to the corner of the Gryffindor common room that her best friends typically occupied, right next to the fireplace. Her face was white as chalk and she was clutching an envelope in one hand. "I've found…oh, it's incredible, I never would have thought…"

"Merlin's beard, Hermione, out with it already." Ron hissed, annoyed at her babbling but self aware enough to stop from shouting and drawing attention to all of them.

"It's just so amazing!" she blurted out, her tone low and urgent as she sat on the arm of Harry's chair and Ron came closer to hear her better. "When I started this project, I was interested in the history, but I never dreamed—"

"Wait, is this about that project you were doing for Binns?" Harry asked with mild interest. "Did you find out who Gryffindor's descendants are?"

"I did…" she opened the letter in her hand and pulled a piece of folded parchment out of her pocket. Harry recognized it as she set it down carefully on the end table as her Gryffindor family tree, but when Ron and he scanned the bottom of the tree they frowned at each other in confusion. They didn't recognize any of the names they could see. "This was where I started to notice it." She indicated the generation that was three lines up from the bottom of the tree. "I felt like I knew the names from somewhere, I could anticipate a few of them before I actually confirmed the identities, and then it suddenly hit me where I'd seen them before." She paused for effect and pulled a folded sheet of paper out of the envelope she'd entered the common room with, setting it beside the parchment.

"All the first names are the same, but the last names are all different." Ron frowned, and he bit his lip as he looked closer. "But these people are…"

"Hermione, what is this?" Harry frowned at the muggle style paper. "Where did you get this from?"

"A few years ago, my great aunt passed away during the summer and my mother helped me do a genealogy. It was my way of coping with the loss." She shrugged, unfolding the letter so that they could see her name at the bottom of the tree. "When I saw the names here," she prodded the Gryffindor genealogy, "I knew it couldn't be a coincidence, so I sent an owl to my parents last week and I just got the answer. My parents are actually both wizards! They have been all along."

"So you're pure blood?" Harry laughed sharply. "Draco might die of shock if you show him this."

"But…if your parents are wizards," Ron frowned, "how come they never said, how come you never knew until now? I mean, they're toothists."

"Dentists," she corrected him with a wry grin, "my mother's letter explains everything. When Voldemort was just out of Hogwarts and gathering information on Dark Arts to prepare for a rise to power, he started tracking down any descendants of the founders. Since he's Slytherin's heir, he was worried about other founder's descendants being able to stop him when he started actually making a grab for power. So once members of my family started turning up dead, the Aurors were having a hard time figuring out who was doing it, but they could see the pattern and saw who was at risk. At the time, my parents were still in Hogwarts, and had been dating for a few years. The Aurors approached my father's family and explained the danger. Since they were still using the name Gryffindor, that obviously put them at the highest level of risk. The Aurors wanted to relocate my father and his parents as well as other descendants of the founders they were able to locate in time. My father wasn't supposed to tell anyone, he was just supposed to disappear from the wizarding world after the end of his year at Hogwarts. They would give him a new home and name and give him muggle training as well as help place him in a job in the muggle world. However, he couldn't stand the idea of never seeing my mother again, so he told her and she agreed to go with him. They eloped, and at the end of the year were moved to where I live now, given the last name Granger and accelerated into the muggle school system, where they eventually trained for and became dentists." Hermione paused for breath and shook her head. "She says in the letter they were waiting to tell me the truth until after I finished school. When I first got in they were afraid I was still too young to know to keep it quiet, and now they're less concerned with that since obviously Voldemort's less concerned with founders' descendants," she nodded at Harry to imply he was the bigger concern, "but they thought once I was immersed in everything here, learning might be too much of a shock."

"So," Harry cocked his head to one side, "are we calling you Hermione _Gryffindor_ now?"

"Maybe," she shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, obviously there wouldn't be more danger me going by my actual name than there is with me constantly being around the Chosen One, so in for a shilling in for a pound."

"Hermione Gryffindor, Harry Potter," Ron pointed to each of them in turn and then jabbed his thumb at his own chest, "and Ron Nobody." He slumped away, looking rather dejected, and Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of mingled surprise and disappointment.

"Give him time," she pursed her lips. "I hoped he wouldn't take it that way, but I suppose I can't be surprised. I know he wouldn't want me to hide who I am for his pride. Not really."

"Yeah, he'll be fine." Harry assured her. "By morning he'll probably care more about how devastated Draco will be to find out you've got a better wizarding pedigree than him, after everything."

"What do you reckon?" she smiled cheekily, "Would he faint if I told him? It'd be worth it just to see the look on his face."

"Possibly, but who knows. He's had enough shocks to his belief structure this year without finding out your blood is purer than his." Harry shook his head and then frowned. "Do you reckon Dumbledore knows?"

"There isn't much he _doesn't_ know." She forced another smile and folded up the family trees, her thoughts wandering to the redhead upstairs.

"I'm telling you, if we just use the Room of Requirement, we won't have to worry about anything like that." Pansy insisted as Blaise groaned and rolled his eyes at her. Draco suspected Blaise was disagreeing with Pansy less because he didn't like her idea and more because it was Pansy, so he generally disagreed with her on principle. "It won't matter what sort of poor people rags they come dressed in, the Room always provides! We just have to think we need a place for a banquet and a ball with all the clothing anyone would need for those two things. It's the cheapest possible way."

"We're not exactly poor, why aren't we just buying dress robes for the students that need them?" Blaise asked. "Or just letting them think their rags are fashionable by _charitably_ not making fun of them all night?"

"It's an act of charity, not an act of impossible willpower." Draco told him and sighed. "I have to agree with Pansy, the room will provide, and there's no reason to fritter away money when everyone _knows_ we're rich. There's a time and a place for conspicuous consumption. We don't want to make them feel even worse about how poor they are compared to us."

"And what bad sense of fashion they have," Pansy added helpfully. "I already know Draco and I will be the best looking couple there, it doesn't matter what they wear, but I want them to at least feel like they belong, if only for a couple of hours."

"You know, I was thinking," Blaise let a slow smile curl his well-formed lips and Draco gulped despite himself. That look usually meant something very bad or very, very good was about to happen. "We're going to all this trouble to make the other students feel included. I think we should each bring one of the regulars as our dates. Nothing serious, of course, just for one night to make them feel like they really have that chance to be as amazing as we are. To belong in our world."

"That's…" Pansy looked torn by this. She would be doing something very visibly charitable, thus possibly wiping out the memories of all the many failed or mostly detrimental previous Acts they had participated in since their first year. However, if she agreed with Blaise, she would not only be _agreeing_ with _Blaise_ of all people, but also agreeing to not spend her romantic Valentine's Day with Draco. This was one of her best chances to seduce him completely before graduation. He hadn't proposed yet, and if she played this just right, she might get their casual unspoken agreement to be formalized. Or at least finally get him to kiss her of his own volition.

"That sounds very good." Draco spoke before she could finish her statement, looking like he was making a great sacrifice while he secretly felt like kissing Blaise right here for giving him a cast iron excuse to not be shackled to Pansy on the one day of the year he felt most terrified that she would just drug him and have her dirty way with him. "It will be asking a lot, I would never want to give up the chance at partnering a proper, pure blood girl for the night to have to spend all night with some dirty, poor Gryffindor."

"Your mind automatically goes to Gryffindor, I see." Blaise shot a look at Nott, for some reason, and the surly blonde simply glared back at his peers while shoving a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. "I think we can arrange that nicely."

"How would we possibly select anyone any of us would _want_ to go with?" Pansy was annoyed that Blaise had one that battle, so she was determined to make his plan as painful as possible to enact. "I cannot think of one suitable non-Slytherin I would want to dance with, let alone spend all night keeping their company and pretending to find what they have to say interesting. What do you even speak to a Hufflepuff about? Mediocrity?"

"Don't worry Pansy, we'll get you the Hufflepuff of your dreams." Blaise reached over and patted her hand, which she pulled away as though his touch was something slimy. "Short, unkempt, and completely average. Your children will be better than you could have hoped for."

"At least I can hope for children, the best you can hope for is someone who remembers your name the next day." Pansy snapped at him and a silence fell over their area of the table, the other seventh years staring at Blaise as they waited for his response. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed to sense the crossing of an invisible line in the bickering that was otherwise completely standard in any interaction between Pansy and Blaise.

"At least I don't lust after someone who'd rather have almost anyone else." Blaise leaned in, his tone venomous. "By the way, Draco's _excellent_, not that you'll ever get the chance yourself."

It had seemed quiet before, but that was nothing to the auditory black hole Blaise's riposte created in the seventh year section of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. It actually seemed as though all of the conversation and noise of eating from nearby was being numbed from their hearing. Or possibly that was simply Draco's hearing, maybe because of the fact that his heart had just exploded in his chest but was still beating so hard every sound was muffled by the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Everyone was looking at him now, all of his friends, with looks ranging from shocked disbelief on Millicent to grim interest on Nott and smug pleasure on Blaise. Pansy was apoplectic.

"Draco…what does he mean?" her voice was so soft when she spoke despite the rage in her expression and the way she was wielding a spoon as though she was planning to gouge out someone's eyeball with it very soon. "I don't think I understand what he means."

"Please, everyone knows Draco's a queen." Nott somehow did not seem terrified of having his eye gouged out, and Draco could not understand why that was, but he was relieved at least that he wouldn't have to try to make an eye patch look fashionable, because he just wasn't sure that was possible.

Then the other shoe dropped

"You…you don't know…anything!" he blurted out, completely beyond all eloquence and the point of caring how stupid he sounded. "I'm not…you don't know."

"Draco Malfoy, welcome to your denial intervention." Blaise whipped a small roll of parchment out of his robes and unfurled it. "Janus Vaisey, Terence Higgs, Dennis Harper, Blaise Zabini." He paused and looked up at the petrified pair of Draco and Pansy, who at least certainly seemed to understand what was being said at this point. "Shall I get into your non-Slytherin forays, or is that enough for now?"

"Stop!" he shouted in alarm, not sure how Blaise had gotten that much information, and certainly not wanting anything else he'd been keeping quiet revealed in such a public forum. "What are you playing at, Blaise!"

"I felt like this whole sad dance between Pansy and you really needed to come to an end, and since you weren't willing to do it yourself…" he rolled up the parchment and tucked it neatly back into his robes as Pansy's jaw jutted out dangerously.

"What are we talking about?" Crabbe finally spoke up as everyone sat in delicate silence digesting the revelations that had just been forced into the open. Nott began snickering and returned to his food, apparently of the opinion that he was not about to watch anyone get stabbed or jinxed.

"Nothing, Crabbe, we're not talking about anything." Draco huffed and tossed down his napkin. "I don't see what I've done to deserve this. Shouldn't I be allowed to decide when and to whom I'll speak about my life decisions? If you think I'll come anywhere near you now, you greasy snake—"

"You think I'm trying to get in your pants?" Blaise let out a short laugh. "Sorry, Draco, but I've got big plans for your pants. And I'm sorry to say my interests of late lie elsewhere."

"This…this _whole_ time," Pansy turned slowly on Draco, her face still flushed with anger, and he was distracted from trying to figure out what else Blaise could be up to as red warning lights flared behind his eyes. "This whole time, you knew, and you never said…how long were you planning to lead me on!"

"I never said I was interested in you." He muttered impotently, and she slapped him so hard his vision momentarily went white. "Pansy! My face!"

"Honestly, I've never seen him encourage you at all." Blaise pointed out, his tone still smug even as they started gaining notable attention from other students who were either finished eating or more interested in the scene unfolding before them. Two Gryffindor girls had even walked across the hall to get a better seat in the audience. "Unless you count not cursing you silly every time you start rubbing your tentacles all over him _encouragement_. It's possibly the most male interest you've received to date."

"That's it!" Pansy shrieked as the nearby girls giggled, and she whipped out her wand. Draco immediately went under the table and started crawling away. He'd been on the wrong side of Pansy's anger before, and he didn't fancy another go. He heard a few spells being exchanged before he reached the end of the table, but he waited for a professor to intervene before crawling out and fleeing the scene. He glanced back to see Blaise and Pansy both nursing injuries as well as the two Gryffindor girls struggling as they were led away, possibly toward the infirmary. As his eyes dragged across the hall to make good on his escape, he caught a familiar green gaze shooting him a questioning look and he flushed to the roots of his hair.

_Like I need to feel worse right now_. He sighed and made his way toward the dungeons. It was time to find a really effective locking spell for his room before Pansy decided a slap in the face wasn't quite the level of vengeance she was seeking.

Harry paced nervously as he waited. He hadn't been able to tell what was happening at the Slytherin table other than that it involved a huge outburst that seemed to center near Draco, and it had ended in at least four people getting cursed. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini had been easily healed when taken to the infirmary, but Parvati Patel and Lavender Brown had unfortunately been hit by some sort of silencing spell that Madame Pomfrey didn't seem to be able to cure no matter what she tried. Physically, they were okay, so they would likely be in class again tomorrow, and from the way they had been gesticulating like crazy when Harry tried to speak to them, they certainly knew what had happened and felt he might find it interesting. However, before he could get them to write an account out, Madame Pomfrey had shunted him out of the infirmary, claiming that they needed rest, not excitement.

So Harry had sent a late night owl to Draco, using one of the school owls so as not to make it too obvious and leaving Gryffindor tower in his invisibility cloak before a response could arrive and cause awkward questions from his housemates. Hermione had known about them for ages, and while Harry was sure that Ron knew, he did a very good imitation of not having any idea about it besides an understanding that Harry preferred blokes, and that constantly shoving Ginny in front of him was totally pointless.

Harry had tried with girls, he really had. Cho had seemed like someone he could care about, but that relationship ended before it really got anywhere. Then there had been his catastrophic attempts with Ginny. He was glad, at least that the redhead was willing to still be his friend and didn't seem to take it as a personal insult that Harry had no physical interest in her. He did love Ginny, after all, just not the way Ron might have always hoped. That was followed by a few awkward snogs with a Ravenclaw quidditch player that had since graduated. Harry was glad he didn't have to see the older boy in the halls anymore, as he thought back to his lack of experience and his foolish groping attempts in that first experimental crossing over toward blokes, he always felt highly embarrassed and as though he were much younger than he really had been at the time.

Then things started with Draco. It had all been an accident at the time, stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time and not realizing until too late that he was snogging the wrong person, but it had since developed into something decidedly more serious than any of his previous relationships. Not only was he attracted to Draco in a way he never could feel toward girls, he found after a time that he could speak to him, and when he wasn't simply disagreeing with him on principle, they had many things in common and even their differences were things that could be spoken about and understood.

To Harry, it seemed that Draco was two people. The self-righteous pure blood who held nothing but contempt for anyone outside his own circle of like-minded Slytherins was his public face. But in private, Draco was a very conflicted young man struggling to find who he was and what he believed, trying to strike a balance between what made him happy and what he knew his parents expected and almost needed him to be.

At times, it infuriated Harry that Draco kept their relationship such a secret, that he still called him Potter in public and made at least a show of still disdaining Harry and his friends, but even at those times it was clear that it _was _a show. There were certain lines Draco didn't cross that he couldn't have cared less about before, and Harry tried to keep those things in mind whenever they would come into conflict. Harry always felt like he was play-acting for Draco's benefit, as the Slytherin had made it clear he was no closer to letting it be known he preferred blokes than he was to asking Hermione for help with his homework. Beyond that obstacle, Harry knew that it was even more of a challenge for Draco to admit to his friends and family how he felt about the Chosen One. It wouldn't exactly sit well with the Malfoys that their son was in a relationship not just with a bloke, but with the one person who was supposed to be their chosen lord's mortal enemy. Harry understood all of this, and he tried to be patient with Draco. He had not told anyone about them, but Hermione had figured it out on her own, and he was relatively sure again that Ron had realized it, especially since there had been a two week period where his best friend had been oddly cold to him, after which he made a great point of pretending Draco simply didn't exist.

It had struck Harry that evening that the conflict at Slytherin table might have been related to his relationship with Draco, and while he was sure in a way that it was nothing more than wishful thinking, he couldn't help hoping that Pansy had been so upset because she had realized she had no chance with Draco, who she'd been chasing after for so long that sometimes, despite all he knew, Harry felt oddly jealous of her. He didn't like seeing her holding Draco's hand or cuddling up to him in the corridors, he didn't like when she attempted to steal a kiss from the blonde, and though Draco had assured Harry he liked it even less, Harry couldn't help how he felt. What would he give to be able to be so familiar with Draco in public? It wasn't that he wanted to walk the corridors holding hands like a pair of twelve year olds, but he would like to be able to admit they weren't enemies, would like to be able to just walk with him and speak with him in a way that wasn't combative. He had come to care for Draco a great deal, and despite disagreeing on a number of subjects, he always found Draco's opinion to be useful and interesting, if not always something he would agree with in the end. He would like to be able to partner with Draco in class without having to pretend to be miserable about it. He found it unfair that he had to act as though he was closer to someone like Hannah Abbott than he was with Draco.

Sometimes Harry worried that Draco would keep them closeted forever, and that it would eventually kill their relationship. How long could you secretly date someone, anyway? And he wasn't allowed to discuss any of it with Ron or Hermione or Ginny, and he found that made it more difficult than anything else. He could really do with someone to tell him whether this part or that bit was normal or worth worrying about, with someone to advise him on whether he was blowing things out of proportion or his feelings were justified, whether any of this was worth it or not.

"Sorry I'm late." Draco's voice shocked Harry out of his silent introspection, and he turned around, beaming at the blonde. It was difficult to be angry when he saw Draco in private, the moments of honesty were too precious for him to want to spoil them with petty demands. "I wasn't sure I could get away. This night…what a fiasco."

"Is everyone okay?" Harry asked. "I had heard that Blaise and Pansy were fixed up almost as soon as they arrived."

"Physically they're okay for now," Draco heaved a sigh and leaned against a dusty trunk in the storage room they were meeting in. The two of them had become experts at the most private, low traffic areas around the grounds and had at least a dozen standard meeting places. "But Pansy's out for blood, and she's either wanting mine or Blaise's. I think I've got a locking charm she'll have a hard time bypassing, but I still have to see her in class."

"What happened?" Harry asked, trying not to seem to eager to get to the point he'd been hoping to reach. "I just saw arguing and then they were cursing each other. I saw her slap you."

"Apparently Blaise decided it was time for my coming out." Draco heaved another sigh and bit his lip in worry. "He as good as said he'd been with me, then started listing my former…partners for everyone to hear. Pansy didn't take it very well."

"He…how did he know who you've been with?" Harry's voice was trembling now. He knew that Draco had been with several blokes before him, most of it not too serious, but he still managed to make Harry not feel like a naïve amateur when they were together, for which he was grateful. He knew about Blaise specifically since Draco often complained about his housemate's thinly veiled threats to out him and Draco's concerns that Blaise was trying to rekindle their association. He had often expressed worry that turning Blaise down would make him suspicious, causing him to investigate more closely and then perhaps find out about Harry and himself.

"He's a Slytherin, we get what we need when we need it, however we can." Draco sighed heavily. "Although I'd guess that he's probably been with half of them himself and found out that way. It's not like there's a roaring trade in people like us looking for people open to our persuasion, so word gets around, I suppose."

"Did he mention…um—"

"He stopped after listing some Slytherins, but he indicated he knew about others." Draco pursed his lips and looked up at Harry hopefully, as though looking for reassurance that their secret was safe. "But we've been so careful, I can't see how anyone could know."

"Well," Harry's throat felt suddenly dry, "Hermione knows, I'm almost positive, and I think Ron might know as well. I've never said anything, but she says things…I think she knows."

"Damn Granger," Draco slapped his hand down on the trunk and gritted his teeth. "How could she have found out? Did you leave a note laying around or something?"

"You know I didn't!" Harry defended at once, unable to stop himself from feeling defensive and annoyed. "You're the one who wants this kept secret, and even though I feel horrible not telling my friends, I haven't said anything. I keep this quiet for your sake, but I think that if it does come out…I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"

"I'll be disowned," Draco began ticking items off on his fingers. "I might be murdered by my housemates, I'll have absolutely no prospects and no friends, I'll be entirely reliant on you and I'll probably end up hating you for it." He scowled at Harry stubbornly. "Do you really want me to give up everything I have to be with you?"

"No," Harry was seized by a reckless honesty, "I know you have a lot to lose, but how long do you think we can do this? Am I going to secretly meet up with you after we graduate between me fighting Voldemort and you trying to live up to your parents expectations? Are you going to marry some pureblood girl to make them happy but keep trying to meet up with me even then? I love you, Draco, but you can't expect me to always be waiting for whatever scraps of affection you feel like you can give me without bringing down judgment from your friends." He took a deep breath, "And if you didn't notice, I have a lot to lose, too, but I don't care! If my friends don't want to be my friends anymore because I'm with you, they weren't really friends in the first place." Feeling slightly drained from letting out so many of his concerns at once, Harry took a step back and braced himself on the wall. He tried not to start arguments whenever they met up, but maybe it was time for him to make some demands after all.

"You…" Draco blinked and took a deep breath. "Do you really…feel that way?"

"Of course," Harry sighed, already feeling sorry that he'd exploded at Draco. "I don't want to lose this, and if it means risking my friendships of course I'll do it. I can't let this end without ever trying to really make it work."

"No, I mean," Draco frowned and stood, taking a step towards Harry, "You said you love me."

"Well," Harry flushed, realizing that hadn't been the best way to say the words and feeling foolish for letting it out in the middle of an argument. "I do." Draco shook his head and lunged forward, crushing his mouth against Harry's in a kiss that was as bruising as it had been sudden.

"Me too," Draco pulled away, resting his forehead against Harry's and panting slightly. "Dammit, how did this happen? Why does it have to be so hard?"

"Nothing worth having is easy," Harry wrapped his hand around the back of Draco's neck and brushed his thumb along the soft skin there. "But I believe in us. I just need you to buy into it so that we have any sort of chance of lasting."

"You're right," Draco heaved another deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crook of Harry's neck, soaking up the smell of him and his warmth, enjoying their gentle embrace in the aftermath of what they had just admitted to each other. "Stupid Gryffindor."

"Bloody Slytherin," Harry's voice was as affectionate as Draco's had been when the imprecation left his lips, and soon they were more consumed with each other than they were with discussion.

"Ron? Would you just talk to me?" Hermione was tired of Ron's brusque treatment of her ever since she'd told Harry and him about her heritage a few days earlier. "Look, if it bothers you so much, I'll just keep going by Granger. It isn't like my children would have the Gryffindor name anyway, and it's the name I've used my whole life."

"Don't do me any favors," Ron grumbled, shoveling eggs into his mouth and frowning at the owls flying into the Great Hall. "I wouldn't want you to lower yourself on my account."

"What are you talking about?" she snorted as an owl dropped a letter precariously near her bowl of oatmeal and she busied herself opening it. Harry had a letter of his own, a rare enough occurrence that he didn't want to bother interfering with their bickering.

"What's this?" Ron scowled at a letter he'd just received. "Special Banquet with a ball to follow…dress robes to be provided…ugh, this sounds horrible. Why would I want to go to anything like this?"

"I got one, too." Harry held up his own elegantly appointed invitation and peered over to see that Hermione was frowning at an identical missive. "Doesn't say who they're from, but looks like lots of people got them. What do you reckon?"

"I can't think of any reason I'd ever want to wear dress robes again." Ron tore his in half and tossed it on the floor.

"Ron, we could have gone together," Hermione sounded wistful but then shook her head sharply. "You know, why do I even bother? Clearly you could care less about doing anything with me on a day like that. I'll see you later, Harry." She stormed off, leaving her oatmeal behind but taking the invitation.

"It says we can't invite a partner, but you _could_ have gone together, since you were both invited." Harry shook his head at Ron. "Are you sure you want Hermione going to something like that on Valentine's Day while you mope in Gryffindor Tower?"

"What? It's on Valentine's Day?" Ron squeaked in momentary panic and recovered the pieces of his invitation, trying to repair the document. "Why should I bother, though, really. Hermione doesn't need someone like me now that she's so…she should find someone good enough for her."

"Ron, you're a prat." Harry told his friend frankly. "You really think Hermione wants to go that thing without you? Just check and see if she goes now she thinks you're not."

"You don't…know." Ron muttered, turning back to his breakfast as Harry sipped his orange juice and let his eyes dart across the hall. Malfoy was staring at him intently and when Harry held up the invitation in a way that might pass as casual, the blonde nodded and gave a small smile. Harry felt a flutter in his chest as he folded the invitation carefully and tried to concentrate on his meal.

He was quite sure he'd be attending the event, whatever Hermione and Ron decided to do.

"No, I said _no_, Theodore," Pansy was so angry at everyone at this point that Draco thought it was unwise of anyone to try to speak to her at all, and Nott shouldn't look so surprised that he was being addressed by his first name, when Pansy knew he despised it. That's what he got for talking to her at all. "I'm not letting you anywhere near the elves, the food, the ingredients, any of it! If you didn't have a track record of trying to sabotage the Act every year we've been at Hogwarts, I might have considered it. Maybe if I hadn't seen you brewing poison in Potions today instead of what we were _supposed_ to be doing, I might think about it. Perhaps if you hadn't mentioned your desire to poison all the food at the banquet as least ten times since we came up with the idea, I might trust you, but as it is, you must think I'm a total idiot to think I'll let you anywhere near one crumb of food that isn't on your own plate!"

"Told you, Nott, she's just not in the mood to share power anymore." Blaise patted the surly young man on the back and eyed Draco with some satisfaction. "Looks like nothing's working out for you this year."

"So now that the invitations went out," Draco spoke up casually, his eyes wandering across the Great Hall of their own volition, "how do we decide who partners who?"

"It'll be random, but I'll organize it so it's all within a year of each other, no point having a seventh year stuck babysitting all night when he could be having the illicit trip to the coat closet of a life time." Blaise answered casually. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you get someone who suits you, Draco." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Pansy suddenly bent the spoon she was holding, causing both boys to fall silent momentarily.

"Aren't those the girls Pansy silenced?" Millicent pointed across the hall to where a pair of seventh year Gryffindors were pantomiming something for Harry Potter, who looked bemused if not totally interested in what they were trying to communicate. Draco frowned at them. Let them tell Harry what they'd heard; he had beat them to the punch anyway, so it wouldn't get him in any trouble. At least…he didn't think it would.

"I did better than that." Pansy grumbled, and Draco wondered if she knew the counter spell to whatever she'd done to the two mute girls, and if anything could convince her to use it. "Nosy Gryffindors."

"Can I help with the food making?" Crabbe asked almost the same question that Nott had asked a few minutes earlier, and Pansy turned a look on him so venomous that it would put any secret poisons Nott was concealing to shame. Draco had to stifle a laugh, but even as he enjoyed Pansy's anger being redirected to the oblivious Crabbe, he couldn't help darting glances across the hall to where Harry was no longer trying to interpret pantomime, but was eating with a look on his face that seemed resigned.

_What do those two know? What could they have told Harry that's made him look so depressed, and why would they think he'd be interested in what happened last night?_

_Maybe we haven't been as careful as I'd thought._

"Hey, don't you need to get ready for your big pure-blood party?" Ron called out to Hermione as she passed through the common room on Valentine's Day. She pursed her lips and told herself not to react to him. She had honestly hoped he wouldn't still be acting this way, but it was as though he couldn't believe that just because her family had a different history than they'd thought for the last several years, they could no longer even be friends, and it was frustrating as well as heartbreaking. She made her way up to her room and sighed as she saw Lavender and Parvati, who still were suffering under some sort of silence curse, writing each other notes at break neck speed. Hermione had to admit, having them stricken silent had made this the quietest Valentine's Day of her Hogwarts career, but the constantly scratching quills were annoying in their own way. They noticed her entrance and started gesturing to her in a way that led her to her bedside table where there was a box of Honeyduke's best chocolate waiting for her without a note, but Lavender scrambled up to her with a note of her own as Hermione puzzled over the source of this.

_Just tell him. You know he feels the same way._

Hermione understood what this meant. Despite his cold behavior and his snarky comments, just as Harry had told her, Ron still cared about her, he was just afraid that she would think she was better than him now. She couldn't let things go on that way, if only she could think of a Valentine's gift she could give him…

But after a few more minutes of watching the two girls illustrative pantomimes of encouragement, she thought she had just the thing. Trying to ignore their continued gesticulations, she went to the mirror and started to prepare herself, checking her hair and tucking it behind her ears, patting it down and trying to resist the urge to really tame the frizzy locks. There was such a thing as too much planning, after all. When she was finally satisfied, she took a deep breath and made her way back downstairs where Ron was pretending not to notice her. She pursed her lips again, forcing herself to believe that this was an act, that he wanted to be near him as much as she wanted him near her, and she walked over to the chair near the fireplace where he was pretending to study.

"Are you going like that?" he asked after it became clear she wouldn't be leaving him alone, and she pulled out her invitation so that he finally looked at her. She tossed it in the fire and smiled at him. "Wh—why did you just—"

"Why do I want to go to something like that on Valentine's Day if the person I care about most is right here?" she asked, trying to stop her hands from trembling with fear. "If you're not going, what's the point of me going?"

He blinked at her for a moment before pulling a shoddily repaired invitation from his own robes and smiling at her sheepishly. "I thought…thought if you wanted to go I should hold onto it. Just in case you needed someone to look after you."

"Harry's going, he could have looked after me," she sunk in front of him and leaned closer, so their faces were very close. At least like this there was little worry he would see her hands shaking since his were doing the same thing.

"Harry's going to be snogging his boyfriend all night, you know as well as I." Ron muttered rebelliously, and Hermione leaned forward, catching his lips in a soft, inquisitive kiss before pulling back and eyeing him hopefully. She didn't have to wait long before Ron pulled her to him with both hands, so she tumbled into his lap as he kissed her soundly.

"Ugh, get a room you two." Ginny didn't even look up from where she was checking her reflection in a compact. Ron's sister was, in fact attending the banquet despite the fact that the student body had deduced it was being thrown by Slytherin. She had designs on at least one Slytherin she could think of. "Happy Valentine's Day," she tossed it over her shoulder like an afterthought as she made her way to the portrait hole and left her brother behind giving Hermione the snogging of a lifetime.

Well, at least he wouldn't be too worried about what she was getting up to tonight.

Harry bit his lip and considered again what he was going to do. Couldn't he just _ask_ Draco? But then again, wouldn't Draco want him to get the list to destroy it, if nothing else?

_I'll just look and see if I can find it, and if I can't, oh well. It's not like I really care who's been with Draco before, he's with me now, and he says he loves me, I doubt he ever said anything like that to anyone on Blaise's little list._

Lavender and Parvati had come to him and communicated using at first pantomime, and then resorting to a note when Harry clearly could make nothing of their gestures, that Blaise Zabini had a list of all Draco's former partners, which he apparently kept in his robe pocket. Everyone was swapping robes at the ball, anyway, so if Harry waited, he thought he could hide under the invisibility cloak and retrieve the list. He wouldn't search _too_ long, of course, he didn't want to keep Draco waiting. He certainly cared more about having a romantic night with his boyfriend than trying to find out who he had most reason to curse in the corridors. Anyway, if he got the list, Blaise wouldn't be able to use it against Draco anymore, and Harry frankly didn't like the idea of anyone having blackmail material to hold over either of them.

Telling himself this was all normal and perfectly rational behavior, he followed a pair of Ravenclaws into the Room of Requirement and headed into the anteroom, where there was an area for witches and wizards to choose a set of magically provided dress robes and change into them behind a curtain. Their normal robes were then labeled and placed in a large closet set to one side by a few first year Slytherins who were looking extremely put upon. Harry slid past the girls debating over which color suited them best and moved into the closet. His heart sank. This closet was enormous, which made sense considering the number of robes it was made to fit by the Room, but he thought searching through this lot would make him so painfully late there was no excuse he would be able to make to Draco that wouldn't arouse suspicion.

_I need Blaise Zabini's robes_. He thought with determination, spinning in a little circle and stumbling against a rack of robes. However, after a cursory search, he could see that none of the robes he'd stumbled against were the ones he was looking for. _What if he's not here yet?_ He paused, having not thought of that possibility. The Slytherins were hosting this, why would one of the leading seventh years be here later than casual guests? There was nothing for it.

"Accio Zabini's robes," he muttered under his breath, not wanting one of the first years still coming in and out of the closet to hear him. He desperately hoped he hadn't put enough force behind the spell to bring Blaise flying to him with the robes if he was still wearing them. Nothing happened.

_He must not be here yet, I'll just go out and check…_

But even as Harry moved toward the entrance of the closet, he heard a disturbance outside, and what was unmistakably Pansy Parkinson's voice ordering people around.

"We'll have to lock him in here," she was snapping. "I caught him trying to slip poison into his partner's food, and this is the last straw."

"But we're storing the robes in there," a first year squeaked. "Where will we put them?"

"Goyle, push him in," she ignored the first year and Harry realized what was happening with a dawning sense of panic. "The room provides, look there are trunks over here now, you can just—" Harry made a blind rush for the door, but as he did he ran right into Theodore Nott and fell on his back, still feeling slightly stunned as he heard the door close and locks slamming shut. "Here, I have some pretty good locking charms, there's no way he's getting out of there before this party's over." Harry sat up and rubbed his head, realizing from the look of shock on Nott's face that his cloak had fallen aside. He nudged it aside with one foot so as to avoid the Slytherin spotting it.

"Hey! Hey let us out," Harry stumbled to his feet and banged on the door with one hand. "It's not just Nott in here, Harry Potter is in here too! Let me out, I'm supposed to be a guest!"

"It's no good," Nott sighed as Harry continued pounding on the door. "She put a silence shield on the door about halfway through that. And I think Gryffindor knows how well Parkinson's silencing charms work."

"I can't stay in here," Harry felt panic rising in him, not so much at the old fear of being locked in a small space, since this closet was quite large, but just at the thought of explaining this to Draco later. "Someone's expecting me."

"Sorry to ruin your picturesque Valentine's Day." Nott shrugged without any real concern. "But to be frank, I'd rather be locked in here all night than having to put up with that nightmare of a Ravenclaw they partnered me with all night."

"Were you really going to…poison her?" Harry asked, shuddering slightly.

"Do you really want to know?" Nott blinked, and Harry sat down, lapsing into silence. He supposed if he was locked in, he'd better get comfortable. After all, they'd have to unlock the closet at the end of the night to give the other students back their robes. And maybe Draco wouldn't be quite as upset as Harry imagined.

"Where is he?" Draco muttered and checked the time for the fourth time in twenty minutes. He had been secretly pleased when Harry had been assigned as his date for the night, but of course had put on a show of indignation which didn't seem to fool Blaise at all. Maybe they really hadn't been careful at _all_.

Blaise himself had seemed oddly concerned about Harry showing up, at least until his own date had appeared. Draco had been surprised that Blaise, who obviously hadn't "randomly assigned" any of the partners had chosen for himself a girl, and beyond that, a Weasley. But seeing them leaning close together and making only the barest attempt to appear only friendly convinced Draco that in fact, this had been going on for quite some time, and that possibly what he was experiencing was some well-meaning matchmaking from his ex and Harry's ex, working together to feel like they were better than everyone else. Unfortunately, all they'd achieved so far was for Draco to sit alone picking at his food as each course came and went. They were nearly halfway through the meal, and Harry still hadn't appeared.

He had met up with his lover two days ago, promising that he would take the opportunity to present Harry as his boyfriend to all the Slytherins, something that he knew Harry had wanted for a long time and therefore an opportunity he was unlikely to miss. Harry, in turn, had promised not to be late, but so far he really wasn't holding up his end of the bargain.

_As though my nerves aren't shot already, I have to worry that Harry's been waylaid by some horrible fan girl, or that there's some ill-timed Death Eater plot, or maybe…he decided not to come after all._ Draco had a hard time believing that Harry would get cold feet after pressuring for a public relationship for so long. In any case, if he was to be believed, his two best friends already knew about it, and from what Draco had noticed over the past week or so, most of the rest of the student body either had suspicions or also seemed to know. Damn Blaise, if he weren't such a gossip perhaps this wouldn't be such a well-known item of news already.

"Hey," Ginny Weasley was wearing pale green robes that made her hair and eyes look shockingly bright, although nowhere near the glow in her cheeks. She was clearly very pleased with herself. "Where's your secret boyfriend?"

"Yes, very funny, let's all make fun of Draco, he thought he could keep a secret in this den of gossip. _Very_ amusing." Draco was not in the mood for cheerful Gryffindors excepting one in particular. "Don't you have bigger things to worry about than my love life? Does your thick-headed brother know about your erstwhile partner? I'm sure he wouldn't approve."

"I'm sure he wouldn't _care_ at the moment." She smiled in a way that was more grimace than cordiality. "As he's busy doing his impression of the giant squid for Hermione."

"Lovely, that's an image I could have done my life without." He sighed heavily and shoved the artistically arranged bits of vegetation on top of his filet despondently to one side and making lazy circles in the sauce that was arced perfectly around the left side of the dish. "So why are you bothering me instead of snogging him silly?"

"I want Harry to be happy, and I think he can be with you if you'll start treating him the way he deserves once in a while." She told him in a firm voice, sounding more like his older sister than his younger ex-girlfriend. "When are you finally taking him out of the shadows, for instance? Because as you pointed out, everyone already knows, so you're not really doing anything other than making him miserable and paranoid that he's going to let the 'secret' slip. Just give him a break already."

"I was planning on doing that tonight," Draco told her sharply, "since it's already public knowledge that my preferences run in that vein, thanks to your date."

"He wanted to blackmail you first," she smiled at him in mock-sweetness, "he thought you might take it better that way. Slytherins."

"So you _were_ pulling the strings?" Draco slapped the table as his suspicion was confirmed. "I didn't even know he liked girls."

"He doesn't like girls, he likes women." Ginny parried artfully, sipping the drink that was sitting where Harry should be. "And you don't have to be Slytherin to be manipulative."

"Obviously," Draco snorted and shoved his plate aside, watching as it was replaced by the next course, which was also something that at the moment he had no appetite for. "I'm sure you're enjoying this."

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," she assured him, seeming kind for the first time during their exchange, but this only made Draco feel more pathetic than ever. Imagine, the day that he had to accept pity from a Weasley. "He's probably just as nervous as you are."

"Can you just leave me alone?" Draco gave her a weary look, and she sighed softly before leaning over and kissing his cheek, something that shocked him so completely he was unable to dodge out of the way in time.

"It'll be fine, I know he cares about you." She assured him and pranced away to join Blaise. Draco glared at the pair of them and wanted to blame all of his misery on them, as completely irrational as he knew that was.

"Did you need a cleaning spell?" Pansy's voice still had the ability to make his spine stiffen in terror as she crept behind him and sat at his side as uninvited as his former companion. "I saw she managed to infect you with Gryffindor as she left. Sorry I couldn't drive her away sooner, that damn Hufflepuff won't let me alone. As if there's a single thing I could ever see interesting in him. Urgh. This could possibly be worse than the house elf debacle, I'm calling it right now."

"You shouldn't judge so quickly. He's what you've always dreamed of," Draco told her dryly, "my straight brother." Now that he'd told Harry about his Macmillian conundrum, it seemed less horrible and more amusing, but he was sure he would never actually tell people at large about his family secret. Especially not Ernie himself.

"You're hilarious." Pansy shot back and leaned into the chair Ginny had so recently vacated, luxuriating in her accustomed spot at his side. Draco gave her a long, surveying glance and thought about telling her everything. After all, he had known her since before Hogwarts, and when she wasn't terrifying him, she was something of a friend and a much more intelligent and usually much more trustworthy confidante than Crabbe or Goyle. "When are you going to get over your little rebellion and let me take care of you? You'll never get anywhere toting around a little prissy boy when you should be married and producing heirs."

"You know what your problem is, Pansy?" Draco decided she was definitely not ready for the truth, even less than he was. "You only want what you can't possibly have and you fail to see the possibilities of those things you are given freely."

"Nothing worth having is easy." She told him tartly, and he started at how differently the words sounded coming from her in this situation rather than coming from Harry nearly a week ago. He shook his head at her in disgust and she frowned at him in return. "You know, I heard about you and Potter," she told him, her voice shaking slightly. "You only like him because you can't have _him_. We're not so different, after all."

"That's funny, because so far I've had him several times, not that it's any of your business, and that's the main difference." Draco told her snidely. "He actually feels the same way, whereas I was never in the realm of possibility for you."

"Oh really?" Pansy gave him a fixed smile. "Then where is this great love you speak of? I haven't seen him all night. Maybe back in Gryffindor tower with the idiots he's always following around, talking about you waiting here for him and laughing? Maybe he knows better than to walk into the lion's den. Or maybe he's locked in a closet somewhere with someone he'd rather be spending Valentine's Day with. Who knows?"

"Ha, very—" Draco froze and gave Pansy a penetrating gaze. She was a little _too_ smug, and after all, he had known her forever, he had learned a thing or two about how to read her after all that time. "You know where he is." He stated flatly and she jumped slightly, laughing a little too casually and making to rise.

"Oh Draco, you're so dramatic, I must get back to Ernie, I'm sure he—" he grabbed her arm to stop her going anywhere.

"You know where he is." Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "And unless I'm much mistaken, you helped put him there." She let out a nervous laugh, and he knew the second statement, a blind guess, was totally correct. His grip tightened and his jaw stuck out murderously. "What did you do?" his tone was low and dangerous, his previous concerns forgotten as his whole being focused on the problem before him.

It was very simple. Harry was not there, but had promised to come. Harry never broke his promises in Draco's experience. Then here comes Pansy, who claims to know about them but seems very pleased with herself for someone who knows she's been barking up the wrong tree for at least five years. She drops a few dark hints about where Harry could be, and it all becomes clear. Pansy did something, and now Harry's not here. This will not stand.

"Draco, you're hurting me." She whimpered, and he snorted with laughter.

"You think I'm hurting you now?" he hissed, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Keep lying to me." She let out a squeak of alarm, but rather than give in, her lip began trembling as though she was willing to bet there was nothing Draco could do here that would convince her to break her silence.

"I was just joking," she pushed forward. "You don't know how badly you hurt me, and to have you parading around with that goody-goody hero in training while I'm stuck with a pudgy, pompous—"

"I _said_ stop lying!" Draco hissed, his wand out now, the tip red hot and edging toward her skin. "You think I care if I leave a mark? Try me, just try me."

"You…you wouldn't." she whimpered. "There's so many people, everyone would see you, you'd be in such trouble."

"Like the trouble you'll be in if I tell about whatever it is you've done to Harry when this is all over? And if you think I can't get some Veritaserum, you are sorely mistaken." He gave her a wide, predatory grin. "And who's to say who saw what? Everyone seems so entertained, no one's even looking at us now. I think you did it to yourself."

"No!" she hissed urgently as he moved the tip close enough that she could feel the heat, and she began sobbing in earnest.

"I'll give you to the count of five." He told her in his most reasonable tone. "One."

"I really don't know anything! I just haven't seen him and you're over here pouting like your shampoo's gone missing—"

"Two," he continued calmly. "Three."

"Ernie will see!" she turned wildly and called out "Ernie!" but the Hufflepuff was either in the restroom or had left, because he was nowhere to be seen, and even though the party was dying down and many people had left, no one else seemed very concerned with what Draco and Pansy were talking about. It wasn't as though it was very odd to see them sitting together.

"Four." He hovered the wand over the white skin of her inner arm and she suddenly stiffened as though bracing herself for the pain, but then shook her head furiously.

"Fine! Fine I'll tell you." She slumped away from him, but he kept a firm grip on the threatened arm. "Just let me go and I'll show you."

"I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for a trusting Gryffindor." He cocked his head at her in mock curiosity. "Just because I'm dating one doesn't make any of that nobility rubbish corrupt me."

"Draco, please," she widened her eyes at him. "I'll have to show you or you won't believe me. He's locked in a closet with Nott, but I placed the charms and you'll never be able to get in unless I disarm them."

"Let's go." He tried to suppress the fury in his voice as he thought about Harry locked in a closet with another man for the past two hours. And he'd thought Harry had stood him up. His grip remained tight, though he extinguished and concealed his wand as Pansy led him to the entrance area the Room had provided for them, and she pointed at the closet with a very defeated expression on her face. "Let him out."

"Fine." She sneered. "Although after a few hours alone with Theodore, maybe he's found out you aren't the only bad-tempered pretty blonde in our house. Maybe he's happy where he's at?"

"Just. Open. It." He was clenching his hands so hard his wand creaked and she let out a yelp of pain before quickly unwinding the protections and locks she'd placed on the door, letting down the silencing shield lastly and giving Draco a look of deep displeasure as he dragged her forward so that he could confirm Harry's whereabouts before he let her escape. He pulled the door open and Harry and Nott fell down at his feet, having been previously leaning against the door waiting for their inevitable release.

"Draco!" Harry looked rather mussed but that was nothing new. He leapt to his feet and offered Nott a hand up, but the other Slytherin muttered something murderous and glared at everyone assembled before stalking away. "I'm sorry! I had to look for something and then she shoved him in there with me and locked it before I could get out. Is it too late?"

"You're alright?" Draco felt suddenly stiff and oddly jealous. Harry had seemed friendly with Nott, and that wasn't something even many Slytherins felt. On top of that, they had obviously been close together when he opened the door.

_Nott's not into blokes…is he?_ But Draco had never seen Nott date anyone in their entire Hogwarts career. If anything, that had to make him more suspicious, since he'd have no reason to date girls in private, but Draco knew well enough how the other circumstance could be problematic.

"I'm fine, just a little embarrassed." Harry shook his head. "Sorry I kept you waiting."

"What were you doing in a closet with Nott?" Draco asked suddenly, and Harry flushed deeply, making Draco much more suspicious than before.

"We just sat and talked a little I guess." Harry replied, his voice tight.

"I mean how did you end up in there?" Draco tilted his head to one side. "What could you possibly be looking for in there?"

"Um," Harry reddened even more, and he eyed Pansy, who had been released but was lingering to see the results of her meddling. "Could we talk about that later?"

"Why?" Draco insisted, feeling like he might have a heart attack. Harry was horrible at lying, and as obviously displayed at that moment, even editing the truth was a big problem for him. "I really want to know."

"Oh…okay," Harry took a deep breath and eyed Pansy with distrust before leaning forward and whispering the reason for his quest in Draco's ear while she tried to edge closer and catch what he was saying. "But I couldn't find it after all, and it's not like I _care_, I just thought we could get it back so he couldn't use it against you. I know it's silly but I—"

"You…were jealous?" Draco arched an eyebrow and felt his heart slow down in his chest. "Jealous of me."

"Well…a little." Harry admitted, flushing deeply again. "I know it's silly, but I couldn't stop myself."

"Okay then," Draco took Harry's hand gently in his own and led him into the banquet hall. "Come here then," he climbed onto a table and held a hand down for Harry, who looked around, biting his lip nervously. "Come up here."

"I don't see why…" Harry began, but he could see that Draco wasn't giving up, so he let himself be pulled up, feeling his face heat as everyone started looking at the pair standing on the table like complete nutters. There weren't as many people as there had been at the beginning of the night, but Draco felt this was satisfactory.

"Everyone! Everyone, if I could have your attention!" Draco waved his arms until they had the attention of the whole room. "Thank you. I have something to say."

"You're not going to propose to him, are you?" Ginny shouted, laughing at the picture they presented as Harry reddened more than ever.

"Weasley, go blow Zabini." Draco told her casually and pulled Harry to him with one arm. "I, Draco Malfoy am in love with Harry Potter, and I don't care who knows!"

"Kiss him!" Blaise did not seem insulted by what Draco had just said, and he saw no reason not to oblige him, even if Harry looked mortified. He dipped the Gryffindor as low as he dared in such a precarious location and kissed him soundly.

"Thank you," he rose again and bowed. "That is all." He hopped down and held a hand to help Harry down, but his lover scowled and jumped down himself, racing for the exit. "Hey, where are you going?"

"You're crazy!" Harry threw over his shoulder. "I can't believe you just…that was so embarrassing!"

"I'm sorry, I have no experience being in love, I'm not sure what's expected." Draco finally caught up to Harry at the exit and followed him out into the corridor. "I promised I'd tell everyone, and I did. Even though you were late and I didn't get to dance with you once."

"Trust me, not dancing with me is a favor." Harry didn't pull away when Draco grabbed him, but the corridor was empty, so there was no reason for him to be self-conscious here.

"I'm sure we can think of something _else_ you can do to make it up to me." Draco pulled him in for another kiss as Harry spluttered with indignation.

"Make it up to _you_?" Harry laughed in his face. "I had to spend all night in a closet with Nott. He's not exactly a pleasant conversationalist, you know."

"You spent the night in a closet with another man and left me waiting," Draco retorted, "And I made a fool of myself for your sake. What part of that doesn't demand compensation."

"I hate you," Harry softened against him, "bloody Slytherin."

"Idiot Gryffindor." Draco kissed him again, and this time it was returned in kind.

The End!

The challenges:

Hermione has just found out that her parents are in fact pureblood wizards in some kind of wizard protection program and that actually she has an amazing pedigree (a.k.a. Malfoy & co. are jealous of how prestigious her new last name is) and super rich. Ron is sure this means he has no hope.

The Annual Act of Charity by the Slytherins has come up again (it will be some kind of tradition (and I like the idea that they just have ONE act of charity) and you can have hilarious hints about what the acts of charity were in previous years) and the Slytherin gang has to decide on what their act is but it somehow has to involve Valentine's Day.

Draco has just found out that Ernie Macmillan is his brother. (Hey, Ernie's always bragging about his pureblood!)

Harry is locked in a closet with Theodore Nott for an entire night and Draco is insanely jealous even though nothing happened and Harry is bewildered by the jealousy. (TYPICAL)

Similar to a previous issue challenged, but hilarious none the same: Parvati and Lavender, through some kind of magical hijinx, CANNOT talk and have to spend the entire story writing notes, making wild hand gestures and generally being frustrated that they cannot gossip at all.


End file.
